More

I am lost for words,
Struck down by heavy hand on street,
Floored from the daze of disbelief that hate, hurt and insult become so common place,
That anger at our differences in mind and body break and set us each apart,
With shout,
With chant and bitterness, laid bare the danger of this day.

My fight and strength is more than fear and pain can crush,
More than threat, enmity or rage.

With kindness quell the brute,
Disarm,
With love expel.


• • •

- Footnote -

 

When together, having money, having no money, having little money, wanting more money stokes the fire of discontent.

 

The artwork began life as coins thrown on a table, of little beauty in themselves until changed beyond recognition.